i.—the broken bridge.

hossein said to his aged grandfather abbas, “o grandfather, wherefore are you reading the gospel?”

abbas made answer, “i read it, my son, to find the way to heaven.”

hossein, smiling, said, “the way is plain enough. worship but the one true god, and keep the commandments.”[46]

the man whose hair was silvered with age made reply: “hossein, the commandments are as a bridge of ten arches, by which the soul might once have passed over the flood of god’s wrath, and have reached heaven, but that the bridge has been shattered.[176] there is not one amongst us that hath not broken the commandments again and again.”

“my conscience is clear!” cried hossein proudly. “i have kept all the commandments; at least, almost all,” he added, for his conscience had given the lie to his words.

“and if one arch of a bridge give way under the traveller, doth he not surely perish in the flood, my son, though the nine others be firm and strong? but many of the arches of thy bridge are broken; yea, the very first is in ruins.”

“not the first commandment—thou shalt have none other god but me. i have never broken that!” exclaimed hossein indignantly. “i have never worshipped any god but one—the almighty, the invisible, the all-merciful. that arch in my bridge, at least, is whole and entire.”

“the being whom we love above all others, and whose honour we most desire, the being whom we obey in all things,—is not he the one whom we worship in the temple of the heart?” inquired the old man.

“surely; for that being is our god!” exclaimed hossein.

he of the silvery beard slowly rose from his seat. “come with me, o youth,” said he, “and i will show thee whom thou dost worship in the temple of thine heart.”

[177]

“no man can show me him whom i worship!” cried hossein in indignant surprise; “for the one true god is invisible, and i worship none but him.”

“come with me,” repeated abbas; and he led the way to a tank of water clear and pure, in which the surrounding buildings and trees were reflected as in a mirror.

hossein followed his grandfather wondering, and saying to himself, “age hath made the old man as one who hath lost his reason.”

when the two reached the tank, abbas said to his grandson, “look down into the clear water, and behold him whom thou dost love above all others, whose honour thou dost most desire, whose will thou dost ever obey. o hossein, my son! is he not to thee in the place of the one true god?”

hossein looked down, and behold! there was his own image reflected in the clear water.

“he who loves self more than god hath broken the first law,” continued abbas; “for is it not written: thou shalt love the lord thy god with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment? hossein, this arch of thy bridge is broken; thou canst not pass to heaven upon it.”

“and can you?” exclaimed hossein with impatience.

[178]

“no, my son,” said the old man meekly; “i have long ago seen that this, as well as other commandments, has been broken by me, a sinner. there never was but one man, and he the holy one of god, with whom the bridge of obedience was perfect and entire.”[47]

“if your bridge be broken, how do you hope to reach heaven at all?” inquired hossein. “how can you, or any one else, escape being swallowed up in the flood of god’s wrath?”

“by clinging to him who cast himself into the raging torrent that he might bear all those who believe in him safe to the shore of heaven!” exclaimed abbas with fervour. “thou hast looked down on thyself, thy sinful self, o hossein; now look upwards to christ, the spotless one, who can save thee from self and sin. my hope of heaven is firm and sure, for it is founded on this sacred word: god so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoso believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

ii.—the burning hut.

sheosahai, the brahmin, stood in his straw-thatched cottage, gazing on the image of krishna, the dark[179] god, which for centuries he and his fathers had worshipped.

his young son, sheo deo, who from his birth had been paralyzed in his limbs, lay on his mat near, and thus addressed his father:—

“o father, the time for pujah (worship) has come! why do you not prostrate yourself before krishna?”

sheosahai made reply: “my son, i was at the mela (fair) yesterday, and there was a man preaching;[48] and i stood to listen, and his words have troubled my soul. he said that thousands of years ago the mighty god came down upon a mountain in fire and smoke, and that from the midst of the fire and smoke a terrible voice gave this command,—thou shalt not make unto thyself any graven image, or the likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth: thou shalt not bow down thyself to them. i would fain have cast dust at the speaker; and yet his words clung to my soul, for he spake as one who knows that he speaks the truth.”

“was the great god of whom he told the god of the christians?” asked sheo deo, who had heard something of their religion before.

[180]

“the same,” replied his father. “and the preacher went on to say that in england, thousands of years ago, men bowed down to idols, and worshipped the work of their own hands; and then the people were feeble and few. but the nation has long since cast away idols, and now men read their holy book, and pray to the lord jesus christ; and therefore england is mighty, and a blessing rests on the land.”

“o father! do you not fear the wrath of krishna when he hears you repeat such words?” cried sheo deo, looking up in alarm at the painted image.

sheosahai made no reply; he turned and slowly left the hut. perhaps the thought arose in his heart: “has krishna power to hear them?”

after his father’s departure sheo deo lay still on his mat, from which he could not move, and often he gazed up at the idol, and turned over in his mind the strange words which his father had heard.

presently there came on a terrible storm. the thunder roared above like the noise of a thousand cannon, and fierce lightnings flashed from the darkened sky; the whole earth seemed to tremble with the fury of the great tempest.

“was it in a storm like this,” thought sheo deo, “that the awful voice was heard from the mountain, thou shalt make no graven image?”

[181]

then came a more terrible crash than sheo deo had ever before heard; and the moment after there was the smell of burning, and then the glare of fire above. lo! the lightning had struck the hut, and the thatch was blazing over the head of the wretched boy, who, paralyzed as he was, could not even crawl out of the burning dwelling.

the red light glared on the image of krishna; to the terrified sheo deo it seemed almost as if the idol had life!

“help me—save me! oh! save thy worshipper, great krishna!” he cried; while the heat around him grew more and more fearful, even as that of a furnace.

but the image stirred not, heard not. the sparks were kindling upon it.

then, in the agony of his terror, the poor hindu bethought him of the christian’s powerful god. even in the presence of his idol he clasped his hands and uttered the cry, “o lord jesus christ, if thou canst save me, oh! save me!”

at that moment sheosahai burst into the blazing hut.

the brahmin looked at his helpless boy lying on the mat, and then on the idol which he had so long worshipped. he had no time to save both; which should he leave to the devouring flames? only one[182] day previously the hindu might have hesitated in making his choice, but he did not hesitate now. he caught up his son in his arms; he bore him forth from the fiery furnace. “if krishna be a god he will save himself,” muttered the brahmin.

the hut was soon burned to ashes, and the idol lay a heap of cinders within it.

sheo deo lived; and in the following year, after much instruction from the missionary, he and his father received the water of baptism, believing that which is written in the holy scriptures: this is life eternal, that they might know thee, the only true god, and jesus christ whom thou hast sent.

iii.—the marks on the sand.

a mohammedan youth, hakim alí by name, on his return from a journey through arabia, visited his friend yuhanna, the christian. though the two held not the same faith, there was much friendship between them.[49] they sat together under a pépul tree, and hakim alí, with great animation, gave to yuhanna an account of all that he had seen in his travels. for a long time yuhanna had all the listening, and his friend had all the talking. in[183] almost every sentence uttered by hakim alí, he brought in the name of allah (god); if he were but describing how a mule stumbled, or what evil fare he had had at an inn, he called god to bear witness to what he said—even if he were laughing when the holy name was on his lips. yuhanna had a stick in his hand, and every time that hakim alí uttered the sacred name, yuhanna with the stick made a mark on the sand. hakim alí at last noticed with surprise this act of yuhanna.

“what are you marking?” he cried.

“debts,” was the brief reply.

“you have many,” laughed hakim alí, again using the name of the highest; and again yuhanna drew a line on the sand.

then yuhanna, turning, asked a question: “you have visited many holy shrines and sacred tombs in your life, o hakim alí!” said he; “did you ever take off your slippers before entering?”[50]

hakim alí was so much astonished at the question, that more loudly than ever he uttered the name of allah. “do you count me as an unclean swine?” he exclaimed; “do you doubt that i always take off my slippers on such occasions? never without due reverence do i approach that which is holy.”

[184]

yuhanna pointed to the marks on the sand. “o my friend!” said he, “fifteen times within the last hour have you shown no reverence for that which is most holy.”

“what is your meaning?” exclaimed the astonished hakim alí, again lightly using the sacred name of god.

once more yuhanna made a mark on the sand.

“is a building made by the hands of men more to be reverenced than that sacred name before which the angels bow?” said yuhanna gravely. “is not every time that that name is taken in vain marked down,—not on sand, where it can be lightly effaced, but in that book of remembrance which is kept by the highest? o my friend! it was the voice of the almighty himself that gave the command: thou shalt not take the name of the lord thy god in vain, for the lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain. this command was written first by the finger of god on the table of stone committed to moses.”[51]

“are you christians then so careful how you take the name of god on your lips?” asked hakim alí, rising somewhat angrily from his seat.

“we, of all men, should be most careful,” replied his friend, “for in the prayer taught by the lord[185] jesus christ to his servants, the very first petition to god is, hallowed be thy name. if we use that name without reverence, our very prayer becomes a mockery, and we are convicted of sin before god. solemn was the warning given by our lord: every idle word that a man shall speak, he shall give account thereof in the day of judgment.”

“who then can stand in the day of judgment?” asked hakim alí with a troubled countenance, as with his foot he hastily erased the marks on the sand.

“none can stand but those who can plead not their own righteousness, but the righteousness of another,” replied yuhanna, looking upwards. “like the prophet isaiah i have often cried: woe is me! for i am undone, for i am a man of unclean lips; but when i think of the blood that was shed by christ on the cross for sinners, to my heart the answer comes: lo! this hath touched thy lips, and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged. there is no condemnation to them that are in christ jesus.”

iv.—the beautiful garden.

there was a certain man who had a young son, azfur alí by name, whom he greatly loved, and whom he daily loaded with favours. one day this[186] father said unto azfur alí,—“come with me into the garden which i have purchased and prepared that it may be a goodly possession for you, o my son!”

the father then led the way to a beautiful garden, in which were all kinds of flowers,—some lovely in colour, some sweet in scent. the garden was divided into seven portions; and the flowers in the seventh portion were white as snow on the tops of the mountains.

“now, my son, take your pleasure in six portions of this garden,” said the father; “but the seventh i have kept for myself. let not your foot wander over the border; enjoy the scent of the flowers from a little distance, but lay not a hand upon them. behold! they are mine, and in abstaining from touching them your obedience to me shall be shown. it is my love for you, azfur alí, that makes me thus reserve the seventh portion. to the white flowers which blossom there on the plants will succeed a delicious fruit, to look upon which will be pleasure, and to eat which will be health. the seventh portion is to be to you even a greater blessing than the other six; but now i call it mine, so trespass not on the ground reserved.”

after a while the father departed for a time to a distant place, leaving his young son behind him.

[187]

from morning till night azfur alí amused himself in the garden; he gathered the flowers at his pleasure, and formed wreaths of the fairest blossoms, red, yellow, and blue; but his eyes often wandered to the forbidden ground on which his feet were never to tread.

“why should i be tied and bound down to these six portions of the garden?” cried azfur alí. “i do not like the scent of those white flowers; if i pulled them up, i could put in their place golden flowers that i like much better. as for the fruit of which my father spoke, i do not believe that it ever will come; at least, i cannot wait for it. a hard and unreasonable thing it is, to shut me out from a seventh part of my garden.”

so azfur alí ran into the forbidden ground, trampling down the plants, and crushing the fair white blossoms, and some he tore up by the roots. then he tried to put in their place plants that had golden flowers; but they flourished not, but withered, and the seventh portion of the garden was soon covered with weeds, and became a desolation!

when the father returned his wrath was great. “azfur alí!” he cried, “thou hast broken my command, thou hast trespassed on the seventh portion of the garden which i reserved for myself, and hast destroyed the flowers which would have borne[188] precious fruit. thou hast forfeited all right from henceforth to possess any part of my garden.”

this story is a parable. the garden is the garden of time, and the seventh portion is the sabbath which the heavenly father hath reserved for himself, as we read in his holy word: remember the sabbath day to keep it holy. six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work: but the seventh day is the sabbath of the lord thy god: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, nor thy maid-servant, thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates: for in six days the lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the lord blessed the seventh day, and hallowed it.

the white blossoms that grow in this garden are the blossoms of prayer, and praise, and perusal of the holy scriptures. the fragrance of them is as the fragrance of the garden of eden. but the full sweetness of the fruit which follows will be enjoyed in heaven, where the hymn of praise on earth will be changed for the song of the lord’s redeemed: the kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of the lord and of his christ, and he shall reign for ever and ever!

[189]

v.—the blind mother.

nand kishore was driven from his home because he had become a christian. his dearest friends would not eat with him, or suffer him to cross their thresholds; his younger brother seized on his small property; and, worst of all, his widowed mother, harmuzi, beating her breast, cursed her first-born, who had been to her as the apple of her eye. then the soul of nand kishore was sorely smitten; in great grief he turned from the door of what had been his home from his childhood. but he remembered the words of the saviour for whose sake he had given up all: if any man love father or mother more than me, he is not worthy of me. blessed are they that are persecuted for righteousness’ sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

harmuzi had in her anger cursed her first-born, but her heart clung to him still. great was her grief when, a year afterwards, she heard a report of the death of nand kishore. and harmuzi had other sore trials: blindness gradually came upon her, till at last all the light of heaven to her was darkened. and her son mohendro showed her no love or respect. he had married a proud woman, who despised her poor blind mother-in-law, and made her life bitter with cruel words. mohendro[190] more than once even struck[52] his afflicted mother; and harmuzi was treated as a slave in the house which had once been her own.

“ah! my poor nand kishore would not have behaved to me thus!” sighed the unhappy mother, when she remembered him whom she had cursed, only because he had done what he felt to be right.

harmuzi’s cruel daughter-in-law grudged her even the food which she ate. “thou canst not grind the corn, or bring water from the well,” she said; “and yet thou dost devour our substance. go out into the street and beg! when passers-by look on your blind eyes, they may at least put a handful of grain into your vessel.”

hungry and sad, and bowed down by sorrow, poor harmuzi, wrapped in her chaddar, sat at the corner of a street, with a brass vessel, called a bartan, beside her, and held out her thin hand for alms. she had sat there for hours, whilst many passed by her, but as yet she had received nothing from any one,—not so much as a word of pity. at last harmuzi heard a slight sound, as if something were being poured into her bartan; and when she put forth her hand to feel, lo! the vessel was full of[191] rice. then some one gently took the blind woman by the hand, and raised her, and led her back towards the house of the undutiful son. harmuzi blessed the kind stranger again and again, and asked vishnu to load him with blessings. he who led her spake not a word in reply, but left her at the corner of a street that was nigh to the house of her undutiful son.

the next day harmuzi was again driven forth by her daughter-in-law to beg, and felt her way slowly to the same spot where the merciful stranger had found her. this time she had not to wait so long. again was her bartan filled with rice, again the same gentle hand led the blind woman back; and she blessed him who had showed her mercy. but the stranger spake no word in reply.

and this went on for many days. the supply of rice never failed, and harmuzi knew not that he who filled her bartan often himself hungered that she might be fed. harmuzi marvelled that she never heard the sound of the stranger’s voice. “he hath been smitten with dumbness,” she said to herself.

one day poor harmuzi, with bruise marks on her face, sat in her usual place; she was bitterly weeping, for the hand of her wicked younger son had been lifted up against his blind and helpless mother.[192] at the sight of harmuzi’s bruises and tears, he who had so long restrained himself[53] could keep silence no longer.

“o mother—mother!” he cried. harmuzi knew the voice of her lost nand kishore, and suddenly rising and stretching out her arms, she fell on his neck weeping.

“o my beloved!” she cried, “is it thou? how is it that thou hast so long fed and cared for her who, in an evil hour, cursed her own first-born son?”

“dear to my soul!” replied nand kishore, “do you not know that he who said, he that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me, also gave this command, honour thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long upon the land which the lord thy god giveth thee?”

vi.—a dangerous village.

padre ware, a missionary, revisited a village in which four heads of families, whose names were nihal, tara chund, chanda lal, and lala, had received the gospel, and been baptized. after an absence of six months padre ware returned to the[193] village, hoping to find the four christians firm in the faith, and glorifying by their holy lives the saviour whom they had promised to serve. alas! great was the sorrow of padre ware to find that satan had sown the seeds of discord and hatred amongst the little band who should have loved one another, even as christ had loved them. nihal had a quarrel with tara chund about a bit of land; chanda lal’s wife had said bitter things against lala’s. none of the four would speak with his neighbour. even the coming of padre ware was a fresh cause of bitterness. each one of the four men asked the missionary to abide in his house; the englishman could not go to the one without offending the other three. where padre ware had hoped to find love and peace and joy, he found anger, hatred, and strife.

under the shade of a banyan-tree sat padre ware, with his bible in his hand; and thither, to meet him, came nihal, tara chund, chanda lal, and lala,—but they sat on the ground as far apart as they could from each other. many of the villagers stood at a little distance to see the missionary, and listen to his words; but none of these villagers wished to become christians, for they said amongst themselves: “padre ware, when he was here before, told us that god is love, and christ’s religion a religion of love;[194] but behold these men who have been baptized, they will not so much as eat together!”

padre ware looked sadly upon the four converts who were thus bringing dishonour on the name of christians. for a few moments he lifted up his heart in prayer for them, and then he spoke aloud:—

“it is the desire of my heart that all may be peace and love between you. nihal is the oldest amongst you: let us all go to his house, and take a meal together, in token that all again are friends.”

but tara chund shook his head and cried, “never will i cross the threshold of nihal!” and chanda lal and lala looked fiercely at each other, and muttered, “we never will eat together.”

then said padre ware to the four: “i have been for twelve years a missionary. i have gone in and out amongst the people; i have never refused to go to the house of him who invited me, nor to eat with any who was willing to eat with me. only once was i in a great difficulty: i went to one village where several were ready indeed to receive me, but i knew that they all were murderers.”

“all murderers!” exclaimed the astonished christians. “that was an evil place indeed.”

“what was i to do?” asked padre ware.

all the four answered as with one breath,—“get out of that village as fast as your honour could.”

[195]

then padre ware opened his bible, and slowly read: whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer, and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him.

there was a great silence, and then the missionary went on:—“o my friends! ye know that god hath commanded, thou shalt not kill; and his word hath shown us that this command reaches even to the thoughts of the heart. ye call yourselves servants of that saviour who loved his enemies, prayed for his enemies, died for his enemies; but oh! remember that they who come to him for pardon and life, must also follow him in holiness and love,—for is it not written in the scriptures of truth, if any man have not the spirit of christ, he is none of his”? (rom. viii. 9).

again there was a deep silence. then nihal arose from the ground, and going up to tara chund, offered his hookah;[54] and tara chund accepted it with a smile. the four christians embraced one another; and before the evening closed in, those who had been bitter enemies ate together as friends and brethren in christ.[55]

[196]

vii.—the beautiful pardah.

it is quite necessary to give a few words of introduction to the following little story, as without it the meaning and drift of it would be quite unintelligible to many british readers. not all are aware that it is the custom of mohammedans of the upper classes to seclude their women from sight; so that to allow the face to be seen by any man except a husband or very near relative is accounted a shame and disgrace. this custom is called “pardah,” and it has spread beyond the mohammedans to some of the hindus, &c. a. l. o. e. has seen an old lady start from her seat as if in great alarm, and hide herself behind a chair, because an aged gentleman had chanced to come in sight. sometimes sufferers are shut out from receiving medical aid on account of pardah. at this moment pardah is one of the greatest obstacles to baptism being received by one whom we believe to be quite convinced of the truth of christianity, and whose husband is a noble-hearted christian. sometimes pardah is actually kept up by native converts; and this is a grievous hindrance to them, and besets their path with needless[197] difficulties. there is in our mission church a little pardah room, indeed, in which women can, if they wish it, hear unseen; but how can a woman in pardah ever share the holy communion—how can she be actively useful amongst the heathen around her! pardah is the napkin under which a few native converts would hide their talent, and one cannot but regard it rather as a kind of fashion, a piece of oriental worldliness, than a token of superior delicacy of mind. a woman actually in the act of hiding her face will sometimes shock our feelings of refinement in some other way.

another little explanation is necessary. the word “pardah”[56] has two meanings: one the state of seclusion which has been described; the other, the curtain which is the emblem of seclusion. any curtain in an english lady’s dwelling is a pardah, though she is never “in pardah” herself.

waziren, a merchant’s wife, came to visit maryam, the wife of a moonshee. both of the women had been baptized as christians, but the heart of waziren still clung to many of the customs of her people; she retained prejudices in which she had been brought up from her childhood. waziren never came to church, lest she should break pardah; and would[198] have thought it unseemly to meet at a meal even the dearest friend of her husband. waziren cared not to learn to read; her only pleasure was in her jewels, and in gossip, in which her favourite topic always was the faults of her neighbours. it was for the sake of talking over news that waziren now took her seat on the charpai (low bed) of maryam.

“are the tidings true,” asked waziren, “that your next-door neighbour, shadi shah, arrived last night from england, a week before he was expected?”

“it is quite true,” maryam replied. “it was a great joy to fatima to see her husband again after a six months’ absence.”

“a great joy, was it?” said waziren sneeringly; and she smiled an unpleasant smile. “i should have thought that fatima would have cared little if the absence of her husband had been one of six years, instead of six months.”

maryam looked almost angry, for she saw that evil thoughts were in the mind of her neighbour. “fatima is a good and faithful wife,” she replied. “had shadi shah remained away for six years, he would, on his return, have found her just the same as if he had never left her. do you not know, o waziren! that fatima has kept in strict pardah all the time of her husband’s absence?”

“in pardah!” exclaimed the astonished waziren.[199] “now, for once, o maryam! i have found you uttering words of untruth! i happen to know that fatima has been to church every week since her husband’s departure. i am sure that she on foot has visited friends; nay, i have even heard that she has taught in a school!” waziren looked duly indignant and shocked at such a breach of oriental customs, though quite aware that maryam did all the things which she professed to think so strange.

“fatima has done all this,” replied maryam, smiling; “and yet she has kept strict pardah.”

“you amaze me!” cried the merchant’s wife.

“perhaps you have never heard that in fatima’s house there is a very fine pardah, beautiful and perfect, though of great antiquity,” said maryam. “this pardah is more valuable than any shawl or cashmere, or piece of golden embroidery, crusted all over with jewels!”

“i think that you must have lost your wits!” exclaimed waziren, more and more astonished. “i know no woman with fewer jewels than fatima. i am sure that she cannot love her stingy husband. if she has such a splendid pardah, she never had it from him. pray, have you ever seen this wonderful pardah?”

“yes; and i have one just like it,” replied maryam, laying her hand on a book beside her,[200] which waziren, though she could not read it, knew to be the bible.

“you talk in riddles!” cried the merchant’s wife.

maryam opened the holy book. first, she found out in the old testament the seventh commandment; and then she turned over to the new testament and read aloud: i will therefore that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with broided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array; but (which becometh women professing godliness) with good works (1 tim. ii. 9, 10). then from another place the christian woman read: likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands; that, if any obey not the word, they may be won by the conversation of the wives; while they behold your chaste conversation coupled with fear (1 peter iii. 1). and then again maryam found that place where that word is written alike for men and women: follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the lord (heb. xii. 14). “behold,” cried maryam, closing the bible, “here is the pardah treasured in the house and heart of fatima; and as long as she keeps within it, the christian wife requires no other!”

[201]

viii.—the bearer’s dream.

ganesh das, the commissioner sahib’s sardar bearer, sat with the bible on his knee; for ganesh das could read, and he had been well instructed in the christian religion. he was convinced that that religion is true, but he loved it not, because it also is pure and holy. ganesh das had read the commandment, thou shalt not steal (ex. xx. 15); his finger was now on the words: exhort servants to be obedient to their own masters, and to please them well in all things; not answering again; not purloining, but shewing all good fidelity; that they may adorn the doctrine of god our saviour in all things (titus ii. 9, 10). ganesh das with vexation closed the bible and pushed it aside.

“what!” he cried; “must i, if i be baptized, give up all cheating, get nothing but my pay, never take from my rich master one pie that is not lawfully mine! no, no; this is more than i can do! let others be christians,—ganesh das cannot break off from the habit of years, and make himself poor for the sake of the gospel!”

that night ganesh das had a dream. he dreamed that he and many others stood in a slave-market, heavily chained, and the voice of wailing was heard around. one who wore a black robe[202] stood near, and to him ganesh das addressed this question,—

“why are we chained here? what hath brought us into this place of shame and sorrow?”

“o lost one!” replied the stranger, “thou and all around thee have been sold to a fearful tyrant, who, after ye have done his work, will cast you into devouring flames, for thus he always treats his slaves when their time of labour for him is ended.”

“how came we to be slaves? what villain hath sold us?” exclaimed the indignant sardar.

“o man!” the stranger replied, “no one is here that hath not sold himself into bondage; and lo! the money which he hath received in exchange for his soul is now the chain with which he is bound. fools, fools! hath not christ said: what shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” (mark viii. 36.)

even as he spoke there was a fearful noise of drums, mingled with shrieks and howlings: the tyrant was coming to the slave-market to claim his victims.

ganesh das in his dream trembled exceedingly, for never had he beheld a form so horrible as that which he looked on now. the glare of the enemy’s eyes was as the glare of the tiger’s when he rangeth[203] the jungle at night for his prey. the tyrant advanced to the first of the slaves, and ganesh das saw a poor wretch crouching down in extreme terror at the feet of the soul-destroyer.

then he of the black robe said: “behold! this wretch is a mighty vizier, who became wealthy as a rajah through the bribes which he took. look at the gold and the jewels which bind him now, so that he cannot so much as look up!”

ganesh das looked, and behold the golden chains were eating into the very flesh of the man who had sold himself to the soul-destroyer.

“he is mine!” cried the tyrant; “bear him away!”

then he advanced to the slave who was next to ganesh das,—a man who stood with his eyes almost starting from his head with terror, whilst he vainly tried to burst fetters made of silver rupees.

“this is a dacoit,”[57] said he of the black robe; “he hath sold himself for the silver chain which thou seest.”

“he is mine!” cried the tyrant; “bear him away!”

“i shall be next,” thought the terrified dreamer. he looked down on his own galling chains, and lo! they were formed of innumerable pice and pies, the[204] fruit of petty frauds for which he had sold his soul. the destroyer approached; the trembling sardar seemed already to hear the doom, “he is mine! bear him away!” the poor wretch made so desperate an effort to burst his chains, that lo! he awoke from his dream.

ganesh das still trembled, but he was thankful that his day of grace was not yet past, that it was not yet too late to escape the soul-destroyer. he fell on his knees, repeating words which he had learned from the bible: let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our god, for he will abundantly pardon (isa. lv. 7). for the wages of sin is death; but the gift of god is eternal life through jesus christ our lord (rom. vi. 23).

ix.—the cracked scent-bottle.

mohendro, the padre sahib’s bearer, saw that melo, the mem sahiba’s new ayah,[58] had a troubled countenance.

“why are you troubled, melo?” asked he.

“when dusting the mem sahiba’s room,” replied melo, “i threw down her beautiful scent-bottle.[205] the scent-bottle was cracked, and the sweet water was all spilt.”

“what matters it to you?” said the bearer, smiling. “you have been but one day in the house; put the bottle back in its place, and when the mem sahiba sees that it has been emptied and cracked, say that you found it so, and that the last ayah certainly did the mischief.”

a short time before, melo would have thought nothing of telling a lie; but she was now a baptized christian, and had been taught god’s commandments. melo knew that one of them is, thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour (ex. xx. 16). melo had resolved to keep a strict watch over her lips, for she had learned the text: lying lips are abomination to the lord (prov. xii. 22). “i am afraid to tell my mem sahiba a lie,” she replied.

the bearer laughed at her words. “why, to lie comes as natural as to eat!” he cried. “the last ayah has gone away to benares, so your lie will do no harm to any one in the world.”

melo thought to herself, “will it do no harm to myself?” but melo was but a new christian; habit is strong, and she had been accustomed to tell lies from the time that she first could speak. melo resolved that when her mem sahiba noticed the harm done to the scent-bottle, she would say that[206] the last ayah had done it. she was timid, and could not bear that the mem sahiba, whose service she had just entered, should think her careless.

the padre sahib had morning prayers in urdu, and such of his servants as were christians were always allowed to attend. it was the first time that melo had ever been present at family worship. she sat on the carpet, watching the sahib as he unclosed the holy book. on the knees of the mem sahiba sat her little boy henry, a lovely blue-eyed child of four years of age.

the sahib read about heaven; of the bright happy home of those who have believed in the lord jesus christ, and who, believing, have loved and obeyed him. melo did not know this part of the bible at all. she listened with delight to the account of the glorious place, till the reader came to the following words:—and there shall in no wise enter into it anything that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie (rev. xxi. 27).

melo was startled to hear this. “shall i be shut out from heaven?” she said to herself. but melo could not even yet make up her mind to tell her mem sahiba all the truth about her beautiful scent-bottle.

when prayers were over, melo was ordered to[207] take baba henry into the garden; for it was the cold season, and the weather was not yet too hot. melo loved children very much, and it was with pleasure that she watched the gambols of the fair little english boy.

henry ran about the garden, and in his play he forgot to keep to the gravel path. carelessly running across the border, the child brushed past a beautiful flower which he knew that his mother greatly prized, and in doing so broke off its head. the child stood still at once, and looked with vexation at the mischief which he had done.

“oh! mamma told me not to run over the border, or to touch the flowers! she will be so vexed!” cried the child, almost bursting into tears.

“never mind, baba henry,” said melo; “you need say nothing to the mem sahiba about the matter.”

the boy looked indignantly into the face of the ayah with his steady blue eyes. “if i did not tell the truth, god would be angry,” he cried; and off darted the child, to confess everything to his mother.

melo looked after him, and tears came into her eyes. “shall that little one fear god and speak truth?” she exclaimed; “and shall i, who have given myself to the god of truth, tell lies like a heathen? o lord! help me to put away this great[208] sin!” and quickly melo followed her little charge, and confessed to her mem sahiba that she had thrown down and cracked her bottle.

and was the mem sahiba angry? no; her words were: “i thank god that i have at last a servant whose word i can trust.”

x.—the fall, the cheetah, and the cup.

jai singh, a man of good family, but poor, stood by the side of the road as parduman, once his boyhood’s companion, rode by. parduman was mounted on an arab horse of great value, richly caparisoned; and two syces attended their master. envy and covetousness awoke in the heart of jai singh as he gazed.

“why should that fellow have all life’s honey, and i he left the gall?” he exclaimed. “would that your horse were mine; ay, and the heavy bags of rupees also, that have fallen to the lot of one less worthy than myself to possess them!”

“o my son, beware of desiring that which is another’s!” said isaac, the aged catechist, who had been a friend and teacher of jai singh from his childhood, and who, chancing to be near, had overheard the exclamation. “in the word of god it is written: thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house,[209] thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife, nor his man-servant, nor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbour’s” (ex. xx. 17).

“what matters the thought, if the act be blameless?” inquired jai singh. “i will never lift up my hand to steal or to slay.”

“as the seed to the plant, as the crocodile’s egg to the living reptile, so is the thought of the heart to the deed of the hand,” answered old isaac. “man seeth the action, god searcheth the heart. in god’s sight he that hateth, murders; and he that coveteth, steals. it is written in the bible: the love of money is the root of all evil (1 tim. vi. 10). dig up the root, and no poisonous fruits can appear.”

jai singh shrank from the purity of such a religion as this, which must convict all men of sin before god. rather impatiently he said, “unless evil be seen, i deny that it is evil at all.”

“hear an incident of my life which has been to me as a parable,” said old isaac. “before i had one white hair in my beard, i went on a journey in a mountainous part of our land. going up a steep place, my horse stumbled and threw me, and i fell down a precipice; but my dress caught in some bushes, and though hurt i was able to regain the road and again mount my horse. riding on again,[210] i had not gone far when a cheetah burst from the thicket, and suddenly sprang upon me. i was a strong man then, and carried a sharp knife in my girdle; after a struggle the cheetah was killed, but i bear on me the marks of its claws to this day. weary and weakened by the loss of blood, i was forced to stop at the nearest house, though it was the house of one whom i had known as a deadly enemy. he received me with sullen looks, but denied me not rest nor food. he brought to me a cup of wine, and i drank it; i knew not that there was poison in the cup. the evil that i saw not, o jai singh! was worse than the more startling dangers through which i had passed. i suffered more from the poison hidden in my frame, than from the fall down the precipice, or the claws of the cheetah.”

“how is it that you are here to-day, if you were poisoned?” inquired jai singh.

“when, after leaving my enemy’s house, i arrived at the place for which i was bound,” replied isaac, “i was in sore sickness and pain; but i found there a doctor of great skill, who gave me a powerful antidote, and after much suffering i rose from my sick-bed healed. and from the christian doctor i also received knowledge of the only antidote for sin,—whether it be the open sin which man condemns,[211] or the poison of sin, such as covetousness, lying concealed in the heart.”

“he taught you christianity,” observed jai singh.

“he taught me that for all past sin there is one remedy freely offered by god to all who truly believe: the blood of jesus christ his son cleanseth us from all sin (1 john i. 7). but we need more than to be saved from the punishment of sin; we need to be saved from its power. the heart, the seat of evil, must itself be made pure by the holy spirit of god. and this spirit is promised in answer to prayer. let us cry, with david in the psalm: create in me a clean heart, o god, and renew a right spirit within me (psalm li. 10). for thus spake the saviour of mankind: if ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children: how much more shall your heavenly father give the holy spirit to them that ask him?” (luke xi. 13.)